


when you’re younger and life isn’t too hard at all

by painted_pictures



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character, a whole ass monologue and no stuttering, all the canon events still happen, his dad isnt supportive when he first comes out but gets better, i guess, i kept forgetting bill’s stutter so if he has like, only one swear woah, thats on me whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_pictures/pseuds/painted_pictures
Summary: For five years, she didn’t know anything was up. She was content with who she was, because she was a carefree child.(or, the trans!bill fic no one asked for)
Relationships: implied stan/bill but blink and you’ll miss it
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	when you’re younger and life isn’t too hard at all

**Author's Note:**

> title from drowse by queen (thank u summer)

For five years, she didn’t know anything was up. She was content with who she was, because she was a carefree child.

Then she started feeling strange when people called her such a  _ great big sister! _ or  _ a lovely young woman! _ And she brushed it off, because she was a kid who didn’t know much of anything. Especially not feelings.

She’s eight years old when she starts feeling strange about her body. At first it’s just feeling like her hair was off or her clothes were strange or her body shape wasn’t right. But she’s a little kid, so there isn’t much she can do. She asks her parents for a hat that she can hide her hair under and some new clothes that she’s seen the boys wear.

“Are you sure you want to wear this, honey? If you really want to, you can get it, but I just want to make sure.” Her mom tells her.

She nods eagerly. “P-p-please!”

“Alright. Show me when you try them on.”

When she sees herself in the mirror, she feels different. When she sees herself, she doesn’t recognize it very well, and at first that scares her. And then she looks some more and realizes that this feels so much  _ better. _ And she keeps the hat and the clothes because that’s what makes her feel best.

She goes downstairs to show her parents. “Mommy!”

Her mother looks up and gasps. “I love it!”

Her father nods in agreement, though he shoots his wife a glance.

She almost wants to ask what  _ that _ meant, but she’s in a good mood and doesn’t want to ruin it.

She’s nine years old when she befriends the strangest group of friends in the school. Strange in the sense that if anyone looked at them, they’d never guess that the three be inseparable. There’s the loud, outgoing, endearingly annoying one, the small, anxious one that rambles a lot when you get him started, and the quieter, calmer, nicer one. They argue so much that it was still difficult to believe that they love each other to death, and she still wasn’t sure about their relationship even after befriending each of them.

She’s sure she would’ve been kicked out for being a girl, but she is different. They all hesitated when accepting her into their group, but let her in nonetheless. It’s because she was more a boy than girl, really.

“Do you wanna be friends?” she asks, because that’s how they made friends back then.

The one with glasses stares. “You’re a girl.”

She tries not to wince at that. She hates being called female, though she never understands why. “So?”

“I mean, I don’t think she has any friends,” Says the one with curly hair softly. “No offence, if you do.”

She shakes her head. “No. I d-d-don’t.”

Glasses looks her up and down. “You got a stutter?”

She stays silent. Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends if they were to make fun of her speech.

He takes the quiet as a yes. “Huh. Cute.”

She is still nine years old when she gets accepted into their group, only a day older.

She’s ten years old when she cuts her hair, wraps bandages around her chest, and wears the most masculine clothes she has. Her hair is a mess and her ribs hurt after a few minutes and her clothes look strange, but they could all be fixed. And then she became a he, and that was that.

He thinks long and hard about his name, before deciding on one he likes.

Bill.

He tries it out in the bathroom mirror, repeating it more times than necessary thanks to his stutter. He says it so many times it doesn’t feel like a word anymore, but it does feel like him.

He sneaks around his mom, reading something in the living room, and outside to get his bike.

_ His _ bike. That’s nice.

He rides to Eddie’s house first, knocking quickly on the door, hoping Mrs. K wouldn’t be the one to answer. Luckily for him, it isn’t.

Eddie stares once the door is open. “Ka—”

Bill interrupts him. “Can you n-not call me that? I promise I’ll e-explain, we ju-just need Richie and St-Stan.”

Eddie stops and then nods, turning back to tell his mom he’ll be gone.

He’s ten years old when he first tells anyone.

They’re all sitting in a circle at the Quarry. Bill’s head is down as he speaks.

“I f-feel like a g-guy? Like, I c-can’t explain i-it. I h-hate getting called a g-girl,” He’s saying, cursing his stutter for getting worse when he was nervous. “and I hate my n-name. I feel better as- as a boy, and w-w-with the name B-Bill.”

Tears began spilling from his eyes and he’s not sure why. It’s scary.

Quickly, Stan is by his side, offering a hug that Bill gratefully accepts. Richie and Eddie aren’t far behind him, and then he’s crying as his three friends hold him tight.

When Bill pulls away, the others let him.

“So your name is Bill, and you’re a guy now?” Richie asks. And when Bill nods, he expects a follow-up question like  _ ‘how does that work?’ _ or  _ ‘that doesn’t make sense’. _ But instead, Richie simply stands and holds out a hand. Bill takes it, and once Richie pulls him to his feet he shakes his hand.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club, Bill.”

He’s twelve years old when he comes out to his parents. He isn’t sure how to tell Georgie, so he leaves it be for now.

He gets home at around six o’clock, after being at the Quarry all day. He’s been getting better about going in the water, but he still stays fully clothed.

His parents greet him when he walks in, and he sighs as he sits in front of them at the table.

“I have to t-tell you something?” He doesn’t mean to make it come out as a question.

They look at him in confusion. “Yes, of course, honey,” Says his mom.

Bill takes a deep breath and then it all comes out in a rush. “I feel like a b-boy and not a girl and I hate being c-called a g-g-girl and I hate my name and if you could call me B-Bill I’d really like th-that,” He says hurriedly.

As expected, his parents stay quiet for a moment. He’s already arranged to stay with Richie if anything goes wrong. Stan offered, too, but the idea of living with him, no matter how long, caused Bill to flush and sputter out a  _ n-no, thanks. _

But maybe he’ll have to tell Richie that he’ll be fine, because his mom’s face softens and she holds out her arms for a hug. “Oh, baby, of course!”

He exhales slowly, leaning into his mom’s embrace. “Th-th-thank you,” He whispers.

His dad has a strange look, unreadable, before standing and leaving. Bill doesn’t ask about it.

He does ask about his brother. “How’re we gonna tell G-Georgie?”

“Just explain that you have a new name and we’ll refer to you as a boy. He’ll catch on,” She tells him.

He can hear his parents arguing that night.

He knows his dad doesn’t like the fact that he’s a  _ he _ now.

He climbs as quietly as he can out the window and down the gutter, creeping around the house to get his bike and then pedaling to Eddie’s house quickly. He’s not sure why he chooses Eddie, because Stan’s closer, but he isn’t sure he wants Stan seeing him as the crying mess he will inevitably turn into.

Bill parks his bike outside the house, picking up a pebble and tossing it at the window he knows is Eddie’s.

The window squeaks open, and Eddie groans as he speaks. “What is it  _ now, _ Richie, for fuck’s sake—” He freezes when he looks down and sees Bill. “Oh. Hi.”

Bill grins sheepishly. “C-can I come in?”

“Yeah, just— hold on.” A moment later, Eddie returns to the windowsill. “Come on. Climb up that tree. There’s a branch close enough to get up here.”

He does as told, stumbling into the room. Eddie doesn’t look concerned. When Bill asks him about it, he shrugs. “Richie’s always louder than you and my mom never wakes up.”

Bill flashes a look to which he receives a glare. “Anyway. M-my dad d-doesn’t support me. My m-m-mom does, though.”

Eddie bends down next to his friend. “Oh. I’m sorry. Is it serious enough that you’d have to leave, or?”

“Nah,” Bill shakes his head. “I don’t th-think it’s that b-bad. But I don’t kn-know.”

He’s thirteen years old when Georgie goes missing. He’s sobbing in his room, nose running and weird, high-pitched strangled noises escaping his mouth. He doesn’t try to regain composure like usual.

He just lets himself cry. And he cries and cries until he isn’t sure he’s going to stop.

He’s beginning to regain composure when there’s a knock at his door.

It opens before Bill can say anything, revealing his dad.

“Hey.” He sits down next to his son. “You okay?”

Bill doesn’t answer. Obviously, he’s doing really great.

“I know you’re upset,” He continues. “And we are too.”

“It’s m-my fault,” Says Bill, his voice cracking.

“Hey, don’t think like that.” His dad is probably making a sympathetic face, but Bill refuses to look at him. “Of course it’s not your fault. You didn’t know what would happen. Georgie wouldn’t blame you, either. You were the best brother to him.”

Bill is silent. He almost doesn’t notice, too caught up in other things, but that’s a first. Brother. About him. Said my his dad.

It makes him feel just a bit better.

**Author's Note:**

> everyone, welcome bill denbrough to the list of characters i’m using to project onto! this fic was VERY indirect in my venting but yknow?


End file.
